


All At Once

by sanidine



Category: The Deer Hunter (1978)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Friendship/Love, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Infidelity, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:26:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25995193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanidine/pseuds/sanidine
Summary: Things just happened sometimes, and it didn't have to mean anything, and it was fucked that it made Mike feel so twisted up inside.
Relationships: Nikanor "Nick" Chevotarevich/Michael "Mike" Vronsky
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	All At Once

**Author's Note:**

> Pre-canon, maybe the winter before the start of the film

It was almost noon when they got home, stumbling, half drunk, through snowdrifts up to their knees. 

Nicky had tried to turn the wrong way when they'd crossed Main and Mike'd had to steer him right with one arm looped around his ribs and Nick had leaned into him then and they had both laughed and Mike hadn't let go. Because they were drunk. Because he was leaning into Nick almost as much as Nick was leaning into him and the sun was so bright on the fresh snow that they couldn't hardly see nothing, eyes almost closed against the glare as they laughed together at nothing and got back to the trailer on muscle memory more than anything else. 

Mike only let go once they were finally inside, dumping Nick so that he could shuck his boots off. Nick followed suit, and he was humming that annoying Monkees song under his breath, looking around sorta dazed but sorta pleased about it as he collapsed onto the couch. Mike shouldered out of his coat, shed a layer of snow onto the rug, and snapped the sleeve in the vague direction of Nicky's face.

"Asshole. Hey. Your toes are gonna freeze off in those wet socks."

" 'M not cold."

"You're drunk."

"Yeah, well, at least I ain't cold." Nick grumbled.

Stan had said more'n once that Nicky looked like some kinda fucked up stork with his long limbs, but Mike thought that he was more graceful than any bird. Mike marveled at it even as he tried not to watch too closely as Nick peeled off his socks and twisted out of his jeans, snow-soaked up to the thighs, in a flurry of effortless movement. Somehow Nick ended up even more sprawled than he had been before, pale legs splayed so that he had one foot up on the back of the couch and the other on the floor. Looking at Mike. But the curtains hadn't been drawn on the window over the couch and the world outside was so bright, so flat and featureless and white, that Mike had to look away.

This didn't -. It wasn't -. Things just happened sometimes, and it didn't have to mean anything, and it was fucked that it made Mike feel so twisted up inside. 

"Mike. Mikey. C'mere" Nick tilted his head back on the arm of the couch, still looking at Mike. "Mike. C'mon."

The twisted up thing inside of him twisted tighter and tighter, folding in on itself until it was so small that it should have just disappeared. But it never did. Instead it just got heavier as he took a step towards Nick. Then, another.

It was so quiet in the trailer that Mike could hear the melting snow that dripped off their jackets on to the linoleum but all he could see was the way that Nick's eyelashes looked so long and pretty in the bright white light. Mike got close enough to take a knee next to where Nick was sprawled on the couch and Nick reached out to scratch his fingers through the short hairs of the beard that Mike's been trying to grow in, and Mike's ears burned and burned under his knit cap, because -

Because it was one thing for guys to help each other out every once in a while. To mess around and never, ever speak of what they got up to in their parents basements back in the day. Back before, back when the only girls they knew were the good Orthodox ones who actually cared for what Father said about saving it for marriage. When they weren't ready and willing to roll around in the back of any parked car. 

But things were different, now. 

Things were different because Nick had been dating Linda for a while, and Michael'd had to pretend he hadn't heard all of Stan's shitty little sideways comments about how pathetic it was that Mike was still hung up on his friend's girl. Anyone else they knew would have said " _best_ friend's girl" but Stan was always like that. Like he couldn't handle the thought of anyone having anything that didn't include him. 

Things were different, but before the last hunting trip they'd driven out a few days before opener, through the rolling foothills and then up, up into the mountains to scout for deersign. Just the two of them, Nick and Mike. And when they'd stopped to share scalding coffee from the yellow thermos, Nicky had still stepped up against Mike and licked into his mouth and they had ended up going to the ground and rolling against each other in the frigid fall leaves. 

Things were different, because Mike's hands were steady when he kneeled next to Nick, as steady in their trailer as they were on his rifle in the woods, but his beard had gotten long enough that he was acutely paralyzed by the sudden fear that Nick wouldn't like him with it. Wouldn't want him like that anymore. But Nicky just smiled, slow and lazy as he carded his fingers through the hair along Mike's jawline, his chin, up until he could dip into Mike's mouth and run his rough thumb along the thin wet skin on the inside of his lower lip.

Then Nick took a deep breath and said "Fuck, Mikey..." and nothing was different at all.

Mike felt like it would never end. Not the physical touching, but, in that moment when they moved together, just like all the ones before, Mike thought that no matter what else happened he and Nick would always come back to each other. That the two of them were connected by something bigger than friendship or even love, something that he couldn't name and wouldn't ever speak of, but that felt like it would never end. But in the end, it did. 

It ended in the same way that Mike would come to understand, in time, that all things end. The way that the mountains rose up from the foothills. The way that the bullet left the gun.

Not at all, and then all at once.

**Author's Note:**

> I write everything on a phone so please let me know if there are any autocorrect errors I've missed. Comments and kudos are always loved!


End file.
